


The Dragon's Awakening

by NanaBananas



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, BECAUSE RYO IS MY SON, Except Ryo, F/M, I'm Bad At Summaries, OCs for backround, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slight Cannon divergence, child fic, might add more relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-01 22:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanaBananas/pseuds/NanaBananas
Summary: It's been over six years since Overwatch fell. Angela thought she was free of both the joy and sorrow the organization brought upon both the world and herself, but when her son, Ryo, a miracle child whose birth should have been impossible, begins to exhibit abilities linked to his Father's lineage, Angela finds herself once again connected to Overwatch.It's been over six years since Genji has seen Angela. In that time, with the help of Zenyatta, Genji has made peace with his time in Overwatch, but he can't help but regret both his treatment of and the way he ran away from Angela. After experiencing strange sensations often tied to the awakening of a new Shimada child, Genji knows it's time to come out of hiding.Both Angela and Genji are brought together again by the Recall, but as old enemies seize power once more, both Genji and Angela struggle to repair their relationship and protect what is most important to them.





	1. A Birthday to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading The Dragon's Awakening! I've been very excited to write this for awhile, and I hope you enjoy it. This is a Cannon Divergence AU fanfiction, but I am trying to follow the cannon as closely as I can. Everything is also Google translated so I apologize if any of the German or Japanese is wrong. Thank you for your understanding.  
> EDIT: I'm dumb. I was looking back through the Wiki pages and found out Uprising occurred 7 years prior to present day cannon. I'm changing Ryo's age to 8 to comply better with the canon timeline. Sorry for the confusion!  
> SECOND EDIT: I apparently don't know how time works. Ryo is 6 since he was born after Uprising and after Overwatch fell. Again sorry for the confusion XD I can't count.

      It had been a long time since Angela had been home. The heavy weariness that accompanied the dry season had long set into Angela’s bones before her 3-month term in Nigeria’s refugee camps was up. In comparison, the green forested hills and charmingly rustic infrastructure of Interlaken, Switzerland was a welcomed change of scenery.  
      The old winding roads led Angela through the town's center and further out into the greenery. The tires of her car rattled in weak protest as the pavement gave way to rougher terrain. Her own home sat nestled in the mountain valley along the edge of the town. The serenity away from the tourists and the townsfolk was one of the many reasons Angela had settled here many years ago.  
      The unkempt road split off onto side roads leading to the driveway of small farmhouses. Angela pressed on. The space between residences grew wider until there was hardly any insight at all. The road curved through a thicket of dense trees. The dancing of the light through the overhanging trees cast an ethereal glow upon the sleek metal of Angela's car. She smiled as the trees began to thin and the road began to straighten. Upon a low hill rested a quaint cottage house. Rich dark wood panels ran in perpendicular lines atop the white exterior, shutters of the same color covered the windows, and delicate Edelweiss flowers hung nestled in the numerous planters. Just gazing upon the solitary home put Angela at ease. She parked in the gravel driveway next to a beat up pick up, eager to get inside.  
      Angela was not unsurprised to find the front door unlocked. She placed her purse and suitcase by the door. Moving quickly through the foyer dotted with photos and misplaced shoes, she searched for the other two residents of the household. “Leandra? Ryo?” She called as she made her way to the kitchen. She smiled when no response came. Angela wouldn’t want a certain someone spoiling the fun when she hadn’t even gotten the chance to prepare. Angela flicked on the lights of the quaint kitchen. She would have time to unpack later, but for now, she had more important matters to attend to.  
      A slip of paper rested upon the granite covered countertop that caught Angela’s attention. Picking it up, her eyes scanned the note.  
_I took Ryo down to the river for a bit to give you time to get ready. I’ll have him back before dinner. The cake is in the back of the fridge, the balloons are in my closet, and dinner is in the pot. Please don’t burn it like last time. See you soon._ -Leandra  
      That gave Angela about an hour to finish cooking dinner, decorate the house, and wrap presents. _“I had better get started.”_

 

* * *

 

      Angela smiled as she admired her handiwork; three acceptably wrapped presents in colorful Samurai Sentai Z wrapping paper sat on the kitchen island. _“It’s taken six years now but I finally think I have gotten the hang of wrapping presents.”_ The kitchen itself was also decorated with green streamers and matching balloons. The sound of water sizzling as it hit the stove snapped Angela out of her thoughts.  
      The pot of boiling water that was housing the ramen noodles had spilled over. “Verdammt!” She cursed as she pulled the pot off of the lit stove. Of course with that crisis averted, the scent of burning pork quickly wafted its way to her nose. “Diese verdammte Sache,” She spat as she moved to salvage what she could of the meat. In her annoyed panic, Angela had almost missed the delighted, youthful laughter coming from the foyer.  
      Spinning around quickly, she held her arms out just in time to catch a sprinting mass of wild black hair and endless energy. The child who had his arms wrapped around her waist looked up with a big goofy grin plastered on his face. “Mama!”  
      His joy was infectious and Angela soon found herself matching his smile. She held him close to her, running her fingers delicately ran through his ebony hair. “Happy Birthday, Spätzchen.”  
      The boy groaned. “Mama, I’m six now. You can’t call me that.”  
      Angela chuckled at his annoyance. “Ryo, as long as you are my son you shall be my little Sparrow.”  
      He peeled himself away from Angela. His thin lips set in a pout. Angela smiled cheekily. Even when upset, Ryo was precious. In that way, he was much like his father. “But Mama-” His protests were interrupted by a bellowing voice from the foyer.  
      “Ryo, I know you aren’t giving your Mama trouble after she’s only just got home.” A tall Spanish woman in her late forties stood eyeing Ryo critically. While her expression was stern, the caramel skin around her dark eyes was etched with laugh lines.  
      “Leandra!” Angela greeted, slipping past her son with open arms. Angela was quick to pull her in for a hug. “It’s been much too long.” She stepped back slightly. “How are things?”  
      Leandra’s brow quirked quizzically. “I’ve been good, but we need to talk, Angela.”  
      Angela’s brow furrowed. “Is something…” She trailed off as the all too familiar smoky scent of charring pork grabbed her attention. She had failed to take it off the stove. Angela quickly rushed back to the kitchen only to be greeted with meat the color of charcoal. Ryo stood on the balls of his feet to get a better view of the pan.  
      “It doesn’t look that bad, Mama.” Angela poked the edge of one of the pieces with a turner; black dust broke off wherever she prodded it.  
      Angela sighed as she continued to poke the meat in resigned defeat. “I don’t think pork is supposed to turn into ash.”  
      Ryo looked from the pork to Angela. “Artistic differences?” His lopsided grin and his jokes were Angela’s only consolation. She chuckled, setting aside the ruined dinner.  
      “Artistic differences,” Angela agreed.  
      “So the art of cooking continues to escape you huh?” Leandra chimed in, inspecting the damage. “Looks like takeout is in order.”  
      “Can we order from ‘Thai, How are You’?” Ryo asked a cheeky smile on his face.  
      “You just want to eat there because of the name!” Angela accused grinning.  
      “Yup!” Ryo readily agreed.  
      “Gotta cut back on those superhero shows kid,” Leandra said as she ruffled Ryo’s dark hair. “They’re filling your mind with terrible puns.”  
      Ryo crossed his arms, a determined look on his face. “If Samurai Sentai Green can make them and still look cool so can I.” Angela couldn’t help but chuckle at the sincerity in his intense expression. “Mama!” Ryo protested. “I’m serious.”  
      Angela stifled her laughter, not wanting to upset her son even if he was being adorably funny. “Sorry. You’re right. You can do anything Samurai Sentai Green can and make it look cool.”  
      “Except maybe slaying dragons.”  
      “Except maybe that…” Angela smiled. “You’ll always be my superhero though.” She had caught Ryo's attention who was looking at Angela with a sense of pride, determination, and adoration. “You know how you could save my day superhero?” Now Ryo was hanging on every word.  
      “How? How?” He asked excitedly.  
      “Grab my phone from my purse in the foyer so I can order us dinner.”  
      “Mama!” Ryo groaned. “I thought you were gonna give me an actual mission!”  
      “This is an actual mission,” Angela said. “And a very important one if we want to eat tonight.”  
      “Can we at least get 'Thai How are You’?”  
      Angela shook her head fondly. “We can get whatever you want.” Ryo whooped with joy and ran off to the foyer to grab his mother’s phone. Angela laughed softly. “I need to remember that tactic. Maybe it will get him to clean his room the first time I ask,” She said as she turned toward Leandra. Leandra, however, wasn’t smiling. “Is something wrong?”  
      “Have you been keeping up with the news lately?”  
      Angela shook her head, concerned. “I haven’t had the means or the time. What’s happened?”  
      “A mysterious assassin has been making headlines recently. I didn’t think it was a problem for us until I did some digging. They haven’t released much information to the public and for good reason. The assassin has been eliminating former Overwatch agents.”  
      Angela paled. She spoke in a hushed voice. “Will you and Ryo be safe? Do we need to move?”  
      “I think we’ll be fine. I’ve kept off the radar for years, and this place is fairly secluded. I’m more worried about you.”  
      “Me?” Angela asked, confused. “I spend most days in the desert. I doubt I’m very accessible.”  
      “But you work for a public non-profit. Your information and location are easy to find on the internet.” Leandra crossed her arms. “I don’t suppose you’d consider quitting and bunkering down here?”  
      Angela sighed. “You know I can’t do that…” Angela’s mind wandered to the time after Ryo was born. Overwatch had fallen several months prior. Even though Angela had loved caring for Ryo, a part of her had felt missing. The pain of losing those she considered family coupled with her inability to ease the chaos rampaging around the world had made her feel useless. That wasn’t a time in her life she was eager to repeat.  
      Leandra ran her fingers through her graying hair. “I know. Just, try and be more careful, please? For me and for your son.”  
      “I will. You know I will. I-” Angela stopped herself as Ryo walked into the kitchen, frowning. He was quick to pick up on the troubled atmosphere of the kitchen.  
      “Mama, are you ok?” The young boy asked. Despite the conversation, Angela forced a smile on her face. This was Ryo’s day. For today, the worries of the world could stay outside the front door.  
      “I’m fine, my Spätzchen. Did you find my phone?”  
      He grinned, proudly holding up Angela’s smartphone. “I rescued your phones from the dark clutches of your purse by dumping everything out of your purse and suitcase!”  
      “Ryo Sojiro Lucas Ziegler, what am I going to do with you?” Angela asked, only jokingly mad.  
      “Help me clean up?” Ryo suggested, sheepishly.  
      Angela chucked. “How about after we order dinner first.”  
      "Let’s get food!” Ryo cheered.

 

* * *

 

      It was later in the evening when both Thai food and cake had been eaten. Leandra had left just before dinner to catch a flight back to visit her family in Spain so that just left Angela and Ryo to open presents.  
      “Mama, can I open my presents now?” Ryo asked, bouncing up and down on his toes eagerly.  
      Angela smiled fondly as she picked up their dirty dishes. “Yes, Ryo. Can you bring them to the living room, please?” Giddy, Ryo carefully stacked his three presents in his arms and zipped off to the living room. Angela thought she had never seen him move so fast. She placed their dishes in the sink before making the short trip to their living room.  
      She was greeted by the amusing sight of her son sitting on his hands so as not to be tempted by the presents resting atop the ottoman. Angela took a seat next to her son. Ryo looked up at her expectantly. Angela took out her phone and hit record. “Go ahead,” She said with a chuckle. Ryo quickly wrapped his hand around a rectangular present, and with no amount of patience, began to tear into the package. Once the flurry of unwrapping had ceased, Ryo held a book. It was a tradition that Angela always gifted him a book for every holiday. She was a strong advocate that he had to do more than just watch TV and play video games all day. He grinned.  
      “It’s the new Secret Wyvern book!” Ryo looked to his Mom. “Thanks, Mama!”  
      Angela smiled over her phone. “You’re welcome, Ryo. Ready for the next one?” He nodded before setting down the book. He then grasped the second present and repeated the same process of chaotic unwrapping. He cheered when he held the new Tinymon video game. Now all that was left was a long, rectangular present. Angela was glad Ryo had saved this one for last. Once again, Ryo quickly unwrapped his present and gaped at the contents. Inside plastic packaging was a replica toy sword of Samurai Sentai Green’s sword and sheath from Ryo’s favorite show. Angela has always been against letting Ryo play with any sort of toy weapons, but she had relented after much convincing from Leandra and enough begging from her son.  
      “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” Ryo quickly chanted as he tackles hugged his mom.  
      Angela laughed, hugging her son tight. “You’re welcome. I assume you like your presents?”  
      Ryo pulled away from Angela. “I love them! Can we open the sword right now?”  
      “Of course. While I open the package, can you clean up the living room?”  
      “Yes, Mama.” Ryo agreed, standing up and beginning to gather up the wrapping paper. Angela picked up the sword and made her way back to the kitchen. She wrestled with the plastic casing for a minute before managing to free the sword. Once that was done, Angela still had to contend with the various ties binding the plastic sword to its cardboard backdrop.  
      “With all of the advancements we’ve made, you’d think they’d figure out a better way to package children’s toys,” Angela thought bitterly. Resigning to simply using scissors, she hacked the toy out of the remaining packaging. By this point, Ryo was once again looking up at Angela as he bounced up and down on his toes excitedly.  
      “Can I play with it now?”  
      “There's a couple of ground rules we need to cover first.” Angela’s voice was kind but firm. “You must play with your sword outside. You cannot bring this to school, and most importantly, you will never hit someone with this. Understood?”  
      “Yes, Mama.” He was still jumping up and down. Angela doubted much of what she had just said had actually sunken in due to his excitement, but she handed him the toy sword and sheath anyways. Ryo immediately sped towards the back door to go and play.                                                                                                                                              “Leave the screen door closed and the back door open so I can hear you!” Angela called as he ran off.  
      “Ok!” Ryo answered as he opened the back door and hurried out. Only until Angela heard the click of the screen door did she begin to clean up dinner and dessert. She let the sounds of Ryo’s laughter and playful shouts occupy her thoughts as she worked. While Angela was by no means a successful chef, she was a decent dishwasher.  
In little time she was drying off their dinner plates. As she dried, she looked out the window in front of the sink. She could see Ryo taking some sort of pretend battle stance facing a tree in the backyard. He was bent down in a lunge, holding the sword in front of him. Once again, Angela couldn’t help but reflect on how much Ryo looked like his father. His stance, though clumsy, was much like she had seen on the battlefield. While his play was endearing, she couldn’t help but feel unease grow in her stomach. She just hoped Ryo would never be forced upon the path that his father had endured. Angela didn’t know if her heart could handle witnessing that a second time.  
      Just as Angela was reaching to put away the last dish in a cabinet near the sink, a battle cry rang out that she thought she would never hear again. “Ryuujin no ken wo kurae!” Ryo cried as his play sword was wrapped with a familiar, ferocious green dragon. Ryo lunged toward the tree, swinging the sword down on the trunk. The tree shuttered as a huge chunk of the base was cut away. As Ryo sheathed his sword, the green light disappearing with the sword. The tree toppled to the ground in front of Ryo. Angela barely registered the sound of shattering ceramic plate on tile over her own terrified heartbeat.  
       _“He really does take after his father.”_


	2. A Dragon's Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case y'all missed the update from last time, Ryo is six not seven. That was my bad! I'm sorry for the confusion. Also, I'm playing around with my formatting, so please let me know if this is easier to read then the last one! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Even though it was early in the morning, the sun rested unmoving in the Alaskan sky. Genji sat cross-legged overlooking the wide field in front of him. The only sound that filled his mind was the whistling of the wind and the cries of the Caribou across the pasture. Zenyatta had been right to make this a stop on their journey; the serenity of the untouched Alaskan fields set his heart, weary from traveling, at ease. It also provided a calming atmosphere in which to respond to Angela’s latest letter. Ever since last Christmas, the two had occasionally exchanged letters. At first, Genji had been wary to impose himself upon the Doctor after so many years, but after many weeks of urging from his Master, Genji had reached out. While he felt understandable reservations from Angela, she had responded to him with kindness. With each letter, Genji hoped to close the distance between them and repair the damage he had created over six years ago.

Removing an envelope from the pack that sat next to him, he carefully pulled the letter from inside. He gently unfolded the letter and smoothed it over his knee. Through his visor, he began to reread Angela’s neatly written letter.

_Dear Genji,_

_I am glad to hear you are well. I am surprised to hear that you will be traveling to America next. It has been a long time since I have traveled there. You must tell me about your trip. Both I and the refugees would be delighted to hear more about your journey. Please include more of your drawings if you can. Your depictions of landscapes and animals always manage to uplift my spirits._

_As for myself, I will be headed back to Switzerland in a week. While I enjoy my work here, it will be nice to take some time off and relax at home. Leandra (Do you remember her? She worked under Ana for a time before retiring. She watches my house for me now while I’m away.) won’t be able to stay with me this time, unfortunately, but the quietness of the empty house will be refreshing in its own right. I leave back for Nigeria in 5 weeks, so if you are able to get a letter to me within that time, please send it to my home in Switzerland. I hope to hear from you soon. As always, stay safe, Genji.  
_

_Sincerely,_

_Angela_

He smiled underneath his visor. Angela’s letter always managed to put Genji in a pleasant mood. Genji carefully placed the letter back in its envelope and returned it to the pocket of his pack where he kept all of Angela’s letters. Rummaging once again through his belongings, he withdrew a sketch pad and his small collection of charcoal pencils. Most people didn’t pin Genji for an artist, but he had enjoyed sketching in his youth. In his teenage and young adult years, he had often used the talent to charm ladies, much to the chagrin of his family. After Genji had joined Overwatch, he had foolishly abandoned many things he had loved, including drawing. He had only picked it back up again at the urging of his Master. Angela had requested a new sketch every letter after Genji had begun to include them.

Genji carefully removed his visor and set it down beside him. He always drew better with it off, and the cool breeze felt nice against his scarred skin. Once again, he studied the serenity of the scenery in front of him, pencil in hand. After a while, he allowed his hand to guide the pencil across the blank page. As he sketched, his thoughts once again drifted to Angela, as they often did. Even after all of these years, Angela's concern for him had not faded. She had always worried about him since their first meeting.

 

* * *

 

_The first time he laid eyes on Angela, he had thought he was dead. Her features, twisted with distress, were soft. Her pale skin, smooth as porcelain, seemed to glow in the yellow light behind her. Her white blonde hair adorned her head like a crown, and her crystal blue eyes held warmth despite their icy appearance. Genji supposed the woman above him was an Angel from the religion the Western missionaries were always on about. He had bet with a drunk one once about what the afterlife was like. Genji had thought it’d be nothingness, but clearly, these missionaries weren’t as crazy as Genji had thought them. He hoped the missionary he had bet with wasn’t dead yet; knowing his luck as of late, Genji didn’t think he’d have any money in whatever heaven or hell he ended up in to pay him with. This Angel, as pretty as she was, lacked the halo and wings the missionary swore all good Angels has. He supposed nobody could be right about everything, especially not a drunk man._

_The second time Genji saw her, he knew he wasn’t dead. The pain that permeated whatever was left of his body was more than enough proof for that. As she administered more morphine, Genji noted that she looked slightly less ethereal than he had envisioned on the brink of death. Her frazzled blonde ponytail and the heavy bags under her pale blue eyes were obvious indications of stress. Despite that, she was still beautiful._

_“Mr. Shimada,” She spoke softly. Her smooth, assuring voice definitely match Genji’s first interpretation of her. “I am your Doctor, Angela Ziegler.” Her name was vaguely familiar, but his brain was too muddled to place where he had heard it before. “You are in very bad shape, but your surgeries thus far have been very successful. You’ll pull through.” She smiled reassuringly at him. Even though he wanted to respond, to ask her so many questions, exhaustion and morphine were already making his eyelids heavy. “Sleep now, Genji. Rest and heal. I will be back when you wake up.” Despite the circumstances, her voice and words made Genji feel safe. His eyes drooped; unconsciousness claimed Genji before Angela shut the door._

_The third time he awoke, it was to a hushed argument just outside his room. He placed the first voice as Angela, but he didn’t recognize the second._

_“Jack, I implore you to recognize that this is not what I or this organization stands for,” Angela reasoned in a voice just loud enough for Genji to hear._

_“What this organization stands for?” The man named Jack argued. “Angela, that man’s family is an enemy to Overwatch and the UN. The only reason he’s here and breathing right now is that he’s a valuable asset to achieving our goals.” He knew of Overwatch. He paid very little attention to his family’s business, but he had heard recent rumors that Overwatch was setting its sights on Shimada’s illicit business dealings. The Shimada family had persisted over many generations, despite threats from the outside. Genji had doubted that some new UN organization, regardless of their track record, could bring down a centuries-old empire. Genji had ultimately decided Overwatch had little relevance to him as it posed no true threat to his lifestyle. He had never even thought his family, especially his own brother, would ultimately be the ones to bring his life to an end._

_“There’s a difference between asking him for information and forcing him to become a human weapon, Jack. I thought you of all people would have understood that!” Now Angela was yelling. She sounded angry. Genji tried to picture her face, but no matter how he twisted it, he couldn’t conjure up fury sitting on the Doctor’s face._

_Now it was Jack’s turn to be furious. “I think you’re the one not understanding Dr. Ziegler. That man has benefited from a terror organization that has wreaked havoc on the Asian continent for centuries, and you’re saying we should heal him and let him off without any consequences? I speak for Overwatch and the UN when I say that Genji Shimada will atone for his families various crimes whether he wants to or not. Is that understood, Dr. Ziegler?” Genji’s stomach churned. He had survived the attack of one enemy only to fall into the clutches of another._

_“Loud and clear, Strike Commander,” Angela spat. Genji’s heart fell before he felt anger seize it. Genji had allowed her kindness and beauty to lull him into a false sense of security. He bet that even the argument he overhearing now was contrived. Angela, no, Dr. Ziegler was just trying to earn Genji’s trust so he’d be easier to manipulate. She was just another traitor among the many recent betrayals Genji had experienced. A brief period of silence followed before Dr. Ziegler spoke again. “I’ll go see if he’s awake.” The door to Genji’s room opened with a soft click. Dr. Ziegler came in with a carefully forced smile. She smiled just like Hanzo had before stabbing Genji in the back. “Ah, you’re awake Mr. Shimada. How are you feeling?”_

_“Like shit,” He croaked. While he was in less pain then he had been in before, every fiber of him still ached with the damage he had sustained. His voice was harsh and talking felt like grating his throat with sandpaper. His body simultaneously felt like it was weighed down with led and that it was missing pieces. Genji had no way of moving or looking to_ assess _the damage though. He was thoroughly restrained by a series of straps holding down his body._

_The fake smile fell from Dr. Ziegler’s features for a moment. “You’re due for some more morphine, Mr. Shimada, but there’s someone who needs to talk to you first.”_

_“Wonderful,” Genji scoffed through his teeth. Dr. Ziegler seemed to almost wince. He couldn’t tell if it was because of his discomfort or obvious disdain, but he found himself unable to care. She was just another wolf in sheep’s clothing. “How much of me is actually left, Doctor?”_

_Dr. Ziegler frowned. “You were badly injured. Your legs, arms, torso, and face sustained heavy injuries, particularly on the right side of your body. We utilized some experimental cybernetic tissue to rebuild vital areas of your torso, jaw, and neck. Your right arm and leg had to be amputated. … I’m sorry, Genji.” He stayed silent and let this information sink in. He felt numb. Dr. Ziegler continued to speak but Genji wasn’t processing anything she was saying. There was nothing of Genji left. Hanzo had taken not just his body, but also his spirit. Genji would never be the same man.After a few more moments of silence, Dr. Ziegler spoke again. “I’ll fetch him then.” Dr. Ziegler then turned to open the hospital door. “Strike Commander Morrison? Mr. Shimada is ready to see you now.”_

_In through the now open door came a tall, blonde, imposing man. He was dressed in blue battle gear decked out with the Overwatch symbol. If that wasn’t enough of a giveaway to who the man was, his chiseled chin and piercing blue eyes were instantly recognizable; Strike Commander Morrison was the poster child of Overwatch. His features had been plastered on propaganda throughout the world. The only thing that was missing was his trademark determined grin. The expression currently featured on the great Strike Commander Morrison’s face sat somewhere between a straight-faced and scowling. His blue eyes were trained straight on Genji. Genji tensed. That only made the pain worse._

_“I’ll be frank, Mr. Shimada. You’re wanted as an accomplice and bystander to numerous drug-related crimes and murders. We understand that you were not directly involved in any of these offenses, but as a witness, you face almost a lifetime in jail. However, if you cooperate, the UN is willing to drop all charges against you,” Commander Morrison’s voice was intimidating. It commanded attention and respect, but Genji wasn’t willing to give him either._

_“What’s the catch?” Genji croaked out, trying to make his voice sound stronger than it actually was._

_“You’ll provide information and combat assistance to eradicate the Shimada clan. In order to achieve this, the Overwatch medical research team will be partnering with our mechanics' division to build you a cybernetic body that will make you faster, stronger, and more deadly than any regular soldier. We-”_

_Genji cut him off. “I accept.”_

_Dr. Ziegler looked bewildered. Genji wondered if she thought it would be harder to convince him. “Mr. Shimada, please don’t feel forced to make a decision when you aren’t fully informed. Wouldn’t you like to go over some early drafts of your body, or at least hear the risks involved?”_

_Genji laughed, but there was no humor in it. “So you’re still keeping up the concerned doctor act, Dr. Ziegler?” He scoffed. “I suppose it doesn’t matter what you do... You have effectively backed me into a corner. You say that you are giving me a choice, that I could choose prison bars if I disagreed with your terms, but in a body like this, I doubt I’d last a week in whatever high-security prison you’d send me to. It doesn’t matter what I want. The choice has already been made for me.”_

_Dr. Ziegler's mouth snapped shut and her ice blue eyes fell to the floor. Genji supposed he could count her shame as a victory. He doubted he would be having many of those over Overwatch personnel in the near future._

_Strike Commander Morrison broke the silence. “I’m glad you are willing to lend us your aid, Shimada. Our research team will begin designing your new body. Until then, you will remain here. Is that understood?”_

_“It’s not like I can go anywhere anyway,” Genji said under his breath._

_“Did you say something, soldier?” Morrison’s eyes bore into Genji, challenging and intimidating. Genji looked away._

_“No, sir.” Morrison looked at Genji once more, as if sizing him up, before leaving. He had expected Dr. Ziegler to follow him out, but she stayed put. Her eyes still refused to meet Genji’s. She silently began to gather the necessary materials to administer morphine. Though Genji resented her, he was relieved she was still taking his pain into consideration. Only when Genji felt the comforting drip of painkillers into his bloodstream did he allow his body to collapse into the hard hospital mattress. He had expected Dr. Ziegler to leave him with the same heavy silence she seemed keen on continuing, but as his eyes began to fall closed, heavy with sleep, he thought he heard her speak softly._

_“Rest well, Genji… I am sorry.” It was so quiet and he was fading so quickly that he had wondered if she had actually said anything at all. He figured it didn’t matter anyway. The words of a traitor held no significance to him. With that thought, he let unconsciousness claim him._

 

* * *

 

“Is something troubling you, my pupil?” Zenyatta’s calming voice aroused Genji from his thoughts. Genji looked down at his sketch, which was nearly finished, as he set the pencil down on the page. He had been lost in thoughts of Angela for a long time.

“No, Master,” Genji answered. “I was simply reflecting on the past.” Throughout their time together, Genji had treated Angela with hostility, even as they had become more intimate. There were many things he had said and done that he knew occasional letters could never make up for.

Zenyatta hovered just to the left of Genji. He looked to his pupil as he spoke. “Ah, so you were thinking about Angela then?”

Genji looked up to the Omnic monk, stunned. Even though Genji had been traveling with Zenyatta for many years, his ability to read the hearts of others never failed to astound him. “How?”

“When you are thinking or speaking about Angela, your being shifts,” Zenyatta, explained. “To the untrained eye, it might not be obvious, but your expression completely changes. Your soul emanates sorrow and remorse,” Zenyatta held out his right hand as he spoke; in it, a deep purple orb floated just above his palm. “But it also resonates with affection and hope.” In his left palm, a shining yellow orb appeared. The orbs disappeared as Zenyatta brought his hands together. “You have never been very hard to read, Genji.” When the Omnic spoke those last words, his voice contained the hint of a smile.

“I have a visor on most of the time,” Genji countered. “What about then?”

Zenyatta looked over to Genji. Though his face was expressionless, Genji could almost picture an eyebrow quizzically raising high on his face over his eye. “Genji, I am incapable of making facial expressions, and yet I am sure you were able to picture such an expression on me before I even began speaking. Am I wrong?”

Genji looked at Zenyatta, stunned once again. “No, Master.” Genji, even though he spent most of his waking moments with the omnic, often forgot how sassy the monk was capable of being. In that way, Angela was similar to Zenyatta. They both snuck in quips while still maintaining a sense of dignity.

Zenyatta chuckled, relaxing once more. “You are doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Thinking of Angela,” Zenyatta answered simply.

Genji blushed slightly before looking down at his sketchbook. “Perhaps.”

Zenyatta laughed again softly. “Have you finished your sketch for her yet?”

“Not yet,” Genji responded as he picked up his pencil.

“There are still a few details I need to add.”

Zenyatta’s focus drifted to the open field in front of the cabin. “Alaska is certainly a beautiful subject.”

“I am glad we were able to stop here before moving on,” Genji agreed. “Perhaps-” Genji cut himself off as he felt his heart beating wildly against his ribcage. Adrenaline pumped hot and heavy through what remained of his veins, and steam began to rise from the opening in his armor. Every fiber of his body seemed to tense as if preparing for something. The charcoal pencil in his hand snapped, but the violent noise was lost in the chaos. As both confusion and panic crossed his mind, his vision cut to black. His breath, his blood, his heart, everything came to a stop, waiting. Suddenly, a deafening roar broke the silence. He heard the voice of a young male, yelling, but he could not make it out over the violent call. A bright green dragon, identical to the one Genji wielded, twisted itself before him before roaring once more. As quickly as it had left, Genji’s vision returned all at once. He gasped for breath, filling his deprived lungs, as he collapsed over himself. Sweat dripped down his forehead, despite the cool air. As the ringing in his ears slowed down, Genji finally heard his Master calling to him.

“Genji?” His normally calm voice was filled with frantic concerned. “Genji, are you alright?”

Genji tried to even his breath, but he still sounded winded as he spoke. “I… I am fine.”

Zenyatta floated lower so as the check Genji over. “Is your body malfunctioning? Do we need to transport you to the nearest city?”

Genji shook his head. “I am fine, Master… The feeling is passing.”

Zenyatta pulled away, giving his pupil space. “What happened?”

Genji frowned. “I think that was the powers of a Shimada child newly awakening. I have never experienced it myself, but the soaring of my heart, the breathing, the visions, they were all like the stories my father used to tell.”

Concern laced the monk’s voice as he spoke. “What does this mean, Genji?”

Genji pushed himself up off of the cabin porch, sketchbook abandoned. He let the breeze cool his sweaty forehead. He wished the serenity of the Alaska wildlife could calm his heart like it had this morning, but it refused to stop beating on his chest as he spoke. “I suppose this means I must pay a visit to my brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah Genji, how little you know ;)  
> Thank you for reading! As always a big thank you to my editor CutieCiderPie! He's the best for real go check him out. I love to chat and will gladly take any critiques! Hit me up in the comments if you fancy <3


	3. Recall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one took so long! School started back up and all my free time went out the window. I promise to update as soon as I can! This chapter includes a section straight from the Overwatch Trailer "Are you with me?". I do not own the things Winston says, but I felt it needed to be included. I hope you enjoy!  
> Update: AO3 kind of sucks and even though this chapter has been out for 24 hours, it's still saying I haven't updated the fic since January. It's also not showing up under the Mercy/Genji tag unless I dig back to January. If anyone has any suggestions on how to fix this please let me know!

_ “He really does take after his father.” _

_ Ryo turned away from the newly fallen tree; his brown eyes were giddy and bright. “Mama, did you see that?” His voice was muffled, but still audible through the screen door. “I’m like a Samurai Sentai!” Ryo cheered. Angela did not share in his joy. She carefully stepped over the shattered plate before quickly making her way outside. Her shoulders were tense and her mouth was set into a hard line. Ryo seemed to pick up on the sternness of her expression. His face fell. “Mama?” _

_ “Ryo, give me that sword. Immediately.” Angela’s voice was harsh and left no room for discussion.  _

_ “But Mama,” Ryo whined, holding the sheathed sword close to this chest. “I didn’t break any rules!” _

_ Anger seeped its way into her voice. “Ryo Sojiro Lucas Ziegler if you do not hand me that sword right now you are grounded. You have until the count of five.” Angela slowly began to approach Ryo as he backed away. “Five…Four...” Ryo held the sword tightly between his arms. “Three… Two… One and three quarters…” Angela continued. “One and a half… One and a-” _

_ “Fine!” Ryo yelled, thrusting the sword towards her. “I don’t even want the stupid thing anyways!” _

_ Angela quickly snatched it, holding it away from Ryo. “Ryo, you do not get to talk to me like that. Go to your room. You are done playing for the night!” _

_ “Fine!” Hot, angry tears welled up in his brown eyes as he sulked back to the house. He slammed the back door shut as he made his way inside. Angela didn’t have the heart to yell at him for it.  _

_ Angela looked down at the toy sword in her hands. Ryo had been wanting one for ages. Angela had always said no because she had not wanted to support any forms of violence, whether they were real or fake… No, that was a lie, wasn’t it? It was not just the violence that made her apprehensive. Ryo looked so much like Genji when he held the toy sword. In that moment when he struck down the tree, Angela saw the pain, strife, and hatred that had torn apart Genji from the inside. His family heritage and his powers had caused him nothing but suffering.  _

_ The sounds of mournful teardrops colliding with the plastic sheath holding the toy sword roused Angela from her reflection. She was crying. Angela chuckled, humorlessly. It had been years since Angela had allowed herself to cry. She was always careful to keep her emotions in line, and now when she hadn’t even been paying attention, she had let them slip. Even though she willed her tears to stop, they continued to flow down her cheeks. Her soft cries soon turned into uncontrollable sobs as regret and fear took hold of her conscience. Angela’s knees grew weak. She slowly sunk to the ground, still sobbing. She had just wanted a different path for her son… and for Genji. She had hoped to shelter Ryo from the pain of his birthright that had destroyed his father, but fate seemed to have other plans. She cried for her son and for the man she had once loved until the sun dipped below the horizon. Once the light and her tears had run dry, Angela made her way inside.  _

 

* * *

 

 

“Dr. Ziegler? Dr. Ziegler are you there?” A voice called. Groggily, Angela’s eyes reluctantly blinked open. Her face was rested heavily upon the records she had been looking through before she had fallen asleep. She gradually sat up in her hard desk chair, blinking slowly. 

“Yes?” She called out, stopping a yawn. 

A young ebony skinned woman pushed open the canvas tent flap that shielded Angela’s makeshift office from the harsh Saudi Arabian sun. She held a mug of coffee in her hands which she set down next to Angela.

“Thank you. Ms. Eze.” Angela smiled gratefully as she grasped the mug. She took a long sip. The warmth was uncomfortable going down her throat given the weather, but the caffeine would definitely help cure her jet lag. “Is there something you needed?”

“I was sent to come get you. You had a group of patients to check up on almost half an hour ago,” Ms. Eze explained.

Angela groaned, leaning back into her seat. She had napped through the first of her afternoon appointments. “Typical,” Angela muttered.

“Did you say something, Dr. Ziegler?”

Angela sat back up in her chair. She smiled sheepishly. “Nothing important,” Angela assured. “Can you let them know I will be there in five minutes?” 

“Of course, Doctor.” The young woman took her leave. Angela looked down at her mostly full coffee mug. She had hoped to actually enjoy her coffee before her afternoon appointments. Once again, fate had her chugging cheap coffee while hurriedly gathering the documents and supplies from her office she needed for checkups. She checked her watch as she left the comfort of her office tent. She had almost a minute to make her way from her office to the medic tent. While it was not far, Angela refused to be late again. The desert sun beat down on her as she ran to the medic tent.  _ “What a wonderful way to start the afternoon.” _

 

* * *

 

The sun had started to dip below the parched horizon by the time Angela was wrapping up her final appointment of the evening. A young boy had broken his arm fleeing a violent conflict that had broken out in his hometown. He was lucky he and his mother had escaped with just a broken arm between them. Angela gently moved his injured arm, now wrapped in a bright purple cast, around gently. She smiled up at the mother. “Can you ask him how it feels?” Angela asked in English. 

The mother looked down at her son. She spoke gently in Arabic. The boy made a face before responding. “He said it was itchy, but it does not hurt.”

Angela nodded. She leaned down so she was eye level with the boy. “I know it’s itchy, but you have to promise not to try and scratch it, ok? You might accidentally hurt the cast and that would be bad. You also can not get it wet, and if it breaks or cracks you must tell your mother right away. Promise?” The boy’s mother translated as Angela spoke. After she was done, the boy spoke once again. 

“He says he will.”

Angela smiled as she stood up. “Good.” She rummaged around in her doctor’s coat pocket for a moment before emerging with a black sharpie. She held it out to the boy. “Take this so you and the other children can draw on your cast. Make sure not to draw on anything else with it though, or your mother might get upset.”

The boy spoke in Arabic as he pushed the marker back towards her. Angela was perplexed before his mother spoke up, smiling. “He asked if you could be the first to draw on his cast.”

Angela’s eyes lit up. “I would love to.”’ She uncapped the marker, and then she softly grasped his bandaged arm. “I am not much of an artist, but I will try my best.” Angela quickly doodled a smiling sun with sunglasses on it. She then signed her name in neat script underneath. She admired her rough sketch as she capped the marker. “Is that alright?”

He grinned widely before chattering in response. His smile both warmed and pained her heart. His carefree expression reminded Angela so much of Ryo. She was so lost in thoughts of her son that she almost missed the mother’s words of gratitude. 

Angela handed him the sharpie after he had hopped off her examination table. Her smile was bittersweet as she waved goodbye to the small family. It had only been a few days since she had last seen her Ryo, but the typical loneliness and anxiety that plagued Angela when they were apart had already set in. It never really went away. She just learned to cope with it after the first couple of weeks. At least she had arranged to have a video call with him tonight. She missed him terribly.

“Dr. Ziegler?” A man called as he stepped into the medic tent. His voice broke Angela out of her thoughts.

“Yes?” She asked, walking away from her examination table, approaching him. “Did you need me for anything?”

He rummaged around in his large satchel for a moment before producing a letter. He held it out to her. “Letter for ya.”

“Ah, thank you.” She took the letter from the man. She carefully inspected the envelope. It was another letter from Genji. Before the man left, she asked for the time.; it was almost 6:30 when she was scheduled to call Ryo and Leandra. She would have to read while she made her way to the communication tent, as she was too impatient to wait until after her call to read it.

Angela tore open the enveloped as she exited the medical tent. She carefully took out the letter and attached page, and she placed the empty envelope into her packet. Her eyes eagerly drank in the words, as she made her way towards the communications tent.

 

_ Dear Angela,  _

_ I am sorry I took so long to write this letter. Life has been crazy for the past few weeks. I hope you were able to relax since your last letter. You always work so hard, but you very rarely take time for yourself. You need to take care of yourself as well as you take care of your patients. I hope you like the sketch this time. I got to stay in a cabin in Alaska. The landscape there was beautiful. My drawing does not do it justice.  _

_ My Master and I had originally planned to travel across the Americas over the course of many months, but we had to cut our journey short. Now we are headed to Japan. I have not been there in many years. Not since I was apart of Blackwatch. There are things I feel I am finally strong enough to confront there. Do not worry though, my master and I will be more than able to protect ourselves should the need arise. We will be staying in a monastery not far from Hanamura. If you are able to send a letter in the next few weeks, please send it there. Take care of yourself, Angela. _

_ Regards, _

_ Genji _

 

Angela sighed. While she loved to hear from Genji, she couldn’t help but worry for him. Hanamura had not held anything good for Genji for many, many years. She remembered how empty Genji had seemed when he had returned from dismantling the Shimada Clan. Normally, Genji’s eyes were always alight with something. Whether they were filled with rage, passion, or anguish, Genji’s eyes always held emotion, but when he had come back that night they were void of any sentiments. It was the only time Angela had thought him more machine than man. Angela shivered. The night’s chill was beginning to set in. She hurried the rest of the way to the communications tent, wanting to be inside. 

She gently pushed the tarp away, making her way inside. The small tent was crowded with a system of computers, radios, antennas, wires, and other devices Angela couldn’t name. A single man sat with his feet up on the table, smoking. He stood up as Angela approached. 

“You’re late, Doc,” He spoke in a rough, ragged voice.

“I apologize, Mr. James. Do I still have time to make a call?”

He huffed, brushing his way past her. “It’s yours for half an hour. Be done before then.” He exited the tent, leaving a trail of smoke.

Angela coughed, waving the smoke away. “Americans,” She grumbled before turning towards the chair the man had just occupied. She sat down beginning to fiddle with the computer. Angela and technology certainly weren’t friends, but Mr. James had made sure to patronizingly explain how to connect her phone to the camp’s network when she had arrived.  Angela opened up the necessary programs on the laptop, and she then fished out her phone from her coat pocket. She smiled at her home screen, a selfie of her and her son. Angela believed herself to not be very photogenic, but Ryo looked as handsome as ever. Angela would get to talk to him soon enough. She plugged her phone into the laptop. Immediately, a message popped up on her phone. Leandra, or rather, Ryo was calling her on Leandra’s phone. Angela smiled. He truly was very impatient. She picked up the call.

Ryo’s and Leandra’s face immediately popped up on her phone’s screen. Ryo grinned. “Mama!”

“Hi,  Spätzchen. Hello, Leandra. How has your day been? Did you do your homework and chores?”

Ryo groaned. “Yes, Mama. Leandra wouldn’t have let me play with my sword if I didn’t!”

“You played with your sword today, huh? Did you remember to follow the rules?”

“No playing with the sword in the house, no pointing it at people or trees, and no doing magic.” Ryo counted off the rules with his fingers as he spoke. “Leandra would have taken it away if I hadn’t listened.”

Leandra ruffled his hair affectionately. “We wouldn’t want to give your Mama another heart attack now would we?”

“Nope!”

Angela laughed at his sincerity. She had felt awful about taking out her fear on her son, so she had given him the sword back with some stipulations. She was glad to hear he was following them. “Did you have fun at school today?”

“Yeah! In art, we got our pottery back. Do you want to see?”

“Of course,” Angela responded, smiling warmly. “I’m sure it’s lovely.”

Ryo beamed. “I’ll go get it then!” The camera shook as Ryo handed the phone off to Leandra. Angela heard his light footfalls echo across the floor as he made his way to the stairs. Ryo’s energy seemed to be infinite as always. Angela turned her attention back to Leandra. 

“And how have you been Leandra?”

“Good. Still single and not looking to mingle,” She joked. “Things have been just as quiet as when you left.”

“Anything important on the news lately?” Angela asked, slightly anxious. The mystery assailant that had been targeting previous Overwatch agents hadn’t made a move since Angela had first got home. She hoped it would stay that way. 

Leandra’s expression grew serious. “I haven’t heard anything new, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t still out there. We’ll be careful as long as you promise not to go sticking your neck out unnecessarily.”

While the situation still unnerved Angela, Leandra’s assurances helped to put some of Angela’s worries to rest. “Even though Overwatch is long gone, we can never truly leave it behind, can we?”

Leandra sighed, running her hand through her dark hair. “Suppose not… Do you know how you’re gonna explain it to Ryo?”

It was Angela’s turn to frown. Her eyes drifted to the ground. “Hopefully that conversation is many, many years away. I’d like him to stay ignorant of it all for just a bit longer.” When Angela had talked with Ryo about his powers, she had explicitly left out any mention of his father and his lineage. He was still too young to understand. Angela knew that if she had to explain Overwatch to him, his father would inevitably come up. 

“Leandra?” Angela looked up at the screen, puzzled as to why she hadn’t gotten a response. The screen had gone static. Angela grimaced. Fixing connection problems was far out of her expertise. Not wanting to have any more interactions with the grumpy IT guy, Angela resigned herself to trying to figure it out alone. 

With naive hope, Angela unplugged her phone from the laptop and plugged it back in. To her surprise, the static immediately began to clear. “Well I supposed I didn’t earn my Ph.D. for nothing,” She muttered to herself. However, her pride was short lived as the figure of someone she had not expected to see appeared on the screen. “Winston?”

Indeed, the face of Angela’s loveable ex-colleague appeared on the screen. His face looked troubled as he sighed. It seemed to be a recording as he didn’t respond to her questioning. Once he had collected himself, he began to speak. “Thirty years ago, the Omnics declared war.” Pictures of the omnic crisis began to flash on screen. Angela’s heart fell with each image. War was never a pretty sight. “The nations of the world had no answer until they called upon a small group of heroes, Overwatch.” 

Mixed feelings immediately seized Angela’s heart at the mention of the disbanded organization. Overwatch, at first, had been a champion of justice, peace, and virtue, but the violent, immoral means in which they met those ends had proved to be the downfall of the organization. It had been shut down for a good reason. She debated shutting off the laptop and letting the past die, but Winston’s change in tone once again caught her attention.  

“Look, the people decided they were better off without us. They even called us criminals! They tore our family apart…” Angela’s heart ached with remorse for the isolated scientist as the memories of both the good and bad of Overwatch clouded her mind. He was right. Overwatch had been Angela’s second family. While she had not agreed with every aspect of Overwatch, she had mourned the loss of those she considered her family. 

Winston suddenly grew angry. “But look around! Someone has to do something! We have to do something.” Once again, as Winston spoke, photos of war and suffering dominated the screen though this time they were from the present. “We can make a difference again. The world needs us now, more than ever.” Winston took of his glasses and looked directly into the camera. In that moment, Angela could almost feel Winston’s eyes, challenging her. “Are you with me?” The screen suddenly cut out, and the Overwatch symbol with a simple message and two options floated on screen: “Answer the recall? Y or N”. 

In that moment, Angela made the only decision she was emotionally capable of. She shut off the laptop and put her head in her hands. Her mind swam with both anguish and longing for the organization that had given her so many blessings and had caused her so much pain. In her conflicted mind, one thing was clear. She had been right. There truly was no leaving Overwatch behind.

 

* * *

 

It was almost a week later when Angela once again entered the communications tent. She was thankful Mr. James wasn’t in. She had enough on her mind today without dealing with him. 

Just like last week, Angela sat down and connect her phone to the laptop; however, this call was very different in nature than her last one. The call was connected. Winston’s face, both tired and hopeful appeared on screen. 

“Dr. Ziegler,” Winston’s deep voice began. “It’s been a long time.”

“Winston, please. Call me Angela.” She gave him a bittersweet smile. “It’s good to see you again. I trust that you are doing well?”

“As well as can be expected…” He trailed off, collecting his thoughts. “How have you been Dr. Zie _ —  _ I mean, Angela.”

“As well as can be expected,” She echoed. “I wish I had just called you to exchange pleasantries, but there is something we need to discuss.”

“I assumed as much seeing as you have not accepted or declined the recall yet.”

“Yes...Who all has accepted thus far?” Angela asked, curious. 

“Let’s see.” Winston adjusted his glasses as he peered at an adjacent computer screen. “As of now, Tracer, Agent McCree, Torbjörn, Reinhardt and his mechanic Brigitte have all signed on.”

Angela couldn’t help herself when her heart fell. A small part of her, though she knew it was irrational, hoped to hear Genji’s name on the list. She supposed it didn’t matter. Angela had already made her decision. 

Winston’s voice pulled her from her thoughts as he began to speak again. “Ah I missed one! Well two people I suppose. Agent Shimada and his master Zenyatta have also responded yes to the recall.”

Despite herself, Angela’s heart began to race. Her feelings towards Genji were almost as complicated as her feelings towards Overwatch, but the thought of seeing him again was enough to throw her back into turmoil.

Winston continued, oblivious of Angela’s dilemma. “I’ve begun looking for more members outside of the ex-agent demographic. However, we are still missing a good doctor. What do you say? Are you with us, Mercy?”

It had been a long time since anyone had called her by that name. The title reminded her of the good she had done with Overwatch; the organization had allowed her to save thousands of lives through research and application. Under the codename Mercy, the head of Overwatch’s medical research, Angela had accomplished her most stunning medical achievements. Even though the name and the accomplishments that came with it had been a great source of pride for Angela, there was a bitterness that tinged all of her memories of that time. The fall of Overwatch had wrought misery upon everything. There was a good reason why Angela had buried that name with the organization. She had never expected the world, or rather Overwatch, to need Mercy again. 

The answers  _ “No”  _ and  _ “I’m sorry”  _ she had so carefully practiced before the call danced on her tongue. Overwatch was dangerous. It was a cloud that had hung over her life for the past six years, and now it even posed a threat to her son. Angela couldn’t help the tiny spark of hope that filtered through her heart. Even though every fiber of her mind screamed that this was a bad decision, she couldn’t help herself as the words spilled from her lips. “I have some conditions.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spätzchen - Little Sparrow  
> I realized I never translated any of the German in the 1st chapter... oops.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Things are starting to pick up. It won't be long before the two babs are seeing each other. I am so ready to have Mercy and Genji in the same chapter tbh. Thanks for reading!


	4. Unwelcome Reunions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this one took sooooooo long to come out with. I literally had like three paragraphs to write and instead of finishing them, I played video games DX Anyways, this chapter goes over and directly quotes the "Dragons" short from Overwatch. I don't own that I swear it just worked for this fic. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

Genji had not meant for it to be this way. He had simply wanted to talk to his brother, to confront the past, but before Genji had known it, he was roughly pinning Hanzo over the railing of the balcony, his wakizashi only inches away from Hanzo’s throat. His bitterness, rage, and sorrow from years long past had resurfaced and brought them to this impasse. Genji knew he couldn’t kill his brother, but he couldn’t stop himself from forcing Hanzo further towards the edge of the balcony. “You think you honor your brother Genji with incense offerings?” Genji’s emotions flew unchecked as he spoke. “Honor resides in one’s actions!”

Hanzo’s fury filled eyes bore into Genji as he spat his response. “You dare to lecture me about honor?” In a sudden movement, Hanzo pushed his bow, which was locked with Genji’s wakizashi, up and twisted. The wakizashi clattered to the floor as Hanzo took advantage of Genji’s imbalance to switch their positions. “You are not worth to say his name!” With the help of his bow, Hanzo tossed Genji aside as if he were a rag doll. While Genji’s body was more than capable of sustaining the damage of the fall, the impact still managed to knock the breath of him. Hanzo had certainly not grown weak over the years they had been apart. 

Running on adrenaline, Genji was quick to spring back up into a battle stance just as Hanzo drew another arrow. “Ryū ga waga teki wo kurau!” Hanzo cried as he let the arrow fly. Two blue dragons twisted themselves around the arrow as it sailed towards Genji. 

Genji began to unsheathe his katana, unafraid of the Dragonstrike that sailed toward him. “ Ryūjin no ken wo kurae!” Genji yelled as he drew his blade, wrapped with a glowing green dragon. He swung his katana outwards, and the green dragon followed his guidance, converging with Hanzo’s dragons. Genji’s blade led the way as he directed the dragons back towards Hanzo. 

Hanzo braced himself as his own Dragonstrike slammed into him; the force of it pushed Hanzo back as they spiraled through him. Hanzo wobbled as the dragons disappeared before falling to his knees, energy spent. In a single fluid motion, Genji sheathed his sword once more. The valves littering his metallic body sputtered out steam in an effort to even out Genji’s temperature. It had not been an easy fight. 

“Only a Shimada can control the dragons,” Hanzo spoke, head hung low. He looked up at Genji, eyes narrowed as if trying to discern the identity behind the helmet. “Who are you?”

Genji’s hands fisted as irrational anger poured through him. Even after their fight, the words they had exchanged, and the Dragonblade, Hanzo still could not recognize Genji as his brother.  Before Genji could stop himself, Genji had drawn his  wakizashi and was once again holding it at Hanzo’s throat. 

Tense silence permeated the balcony before Hanzo spoke. “Do it then. Kill me.”

Genji’s heart raced. He could do it, obtain the revenge his soul had longed for so many years ago. Hanzo had wronged him. He had destroyed both his body and his spirit that fateful day ten years ago. But would that really solve anything?

Genji scoffed at himself as he lowered his wakizashi.  “I will not grant you the death you wish for,” Genji said as he sheathed his wakizashi. Even though Genji’s inner demons had tempted him to seize the opportunity, he knew in his heart that he could not. While Hanzo’s betrayal had been wrong, it had ultimately helped to shape him into the man he was today, and for that, he was grateful. “You still have a purpose in this life, brother.” Genji looked over at Hanzo as he spoke.

Hanzo’s eyes widened. “No…” He quickly stood up, grabbing his bow. “No.” Hanzo’s eyes narrowed. “My brother is dead.”

Rather than responding, Genji reached behind his head. Using his armored fingertips, he gently pushed the buttons to release the vizor. Genji pulled it down, revealing the sacred flesh surrounding his brown eyes. The same color as the eyes of the man in front of him that gaped at Genji, disbelieving.

“Genji,” Hanzo said, both hopeful and apprehensive.

“I have come to talk,” Genji responded.

“To talk?” Hanzo questioned. 

“I am sure you felt the awakening of a Shimada child as I did, brother… Though I’ll admit, I never really pegged you as one to have children.”

“Children?” Hanzo sputtered. “No. No, I haven’t had any children.”

Genji’s brow quirked. “Are you sure about that?”

“I cannot believe I am having this conversation right now…” Hanzo shook his head. “Do I look like the type to sleep around? I am not you, brother.”

“That’s fair,” Genji conceded. “I would still pay a visit to any partners you have had.”

Hanzo scoffed. “You should keep your nose out of my affairs.”

Genji rolled his eyes. Hanzo was just as callous as ever. “Is it possible it is the child of a surviving Shimada member?”

“No. Only those capable of summoning the dragons can bear children that can summon the dragons, and we are the only two left... How are you so sure it is not you?”

Genji paused to think about that one. Foregoing the fact that the Overwatch medical team had made it explicit he was incapable of having children, he had not shared his bed with anyone for many, many years. He had only slept with one woman since his body had been this way, and it was a short relationship. It didn’t matter anyway. His last partner herself had confirmed children as an impossibility. “I am...incapable of such things.”

“What have you become?” Hanzo asked, refusing to meet Genji’s eyes.

Genji sighed as he put his visor back where it belonged. While the night air felt nice against Genji's scared skin, Hanzo’s judgment made him feel a sense of self-consciousness Genji thought he had put behind him. “I have accepted what I am,” Genji answered as he approached Hanzo. “And I have forgiven you.” Genji placed his hand on the shoulder of his bewildered brother. “Now you must forgive yourself.”

Genji brushed past Hanzo, making his way to the edge of the balcony. He looked out over the city he had once called his home. While Hanamura held many memories, both good and bad, Genji felt no longer felt any sort of attachment to the city like he once had. He was a different man now.

Mentally shaking off his thoughts, Genji spoke once more. “The world is changing once again, Hanzo.” Genji looked over his shoulder at his silent brother. “And it’s time to pick a side.” In a feat of inhuman ability, Genji lept from the balcony. He sailed through the cold, night air briefly before landing on a tower of the wall surrounding Shimada castle.

“Real life is not like the stories our father told us,” Hanzo yelled. Genji heard the distinct sound of Hanzo drawing his bow. “You were a fool for believing it so.”

Genji shook his head. Even after everything, Hanzo was still as impossible as ever. “Perhaps I am a fool to think there is still hope for you,” Genji agreed. “But I do.” Genji turned back towards a stunned Hanzo who had lowered his bow slightly. Genji couldn’t help the slight smugness that crept into his voice as he responded. “Think on that, brother.” As Genji finished, he dropped a smoke bomb that encased his immediate surroundings in thick fog. Genji seized the opportunity to make his escape from the castle and the watchful eyes of his brother. He left only a single sparrowhawk feather, his calling card, behind as he fled. Genji had confronted his brother, so now it was time to move forward and face another piece of his past that had plagued him. It was time to face Overwatch.

 

* * *

 

“I must confess, Genji, I am looking forward to meeting the friends you’ve spoken so highly about,” Zenyatta said as the car bounced up and down the rocky roads. The pair had been traveling for several days to get to Gibraltar from Hanamura, and now they were on the last leg of the journey before they reached the old Watchpoint. 

“And I as well. It has been many years,” Genji responded as he drove the worn car that jittered across the outdated roads. Genji was eager to reunite with some of his old colleagues, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly anxious confronting his past once more, not to mention facing Angela. It had been over six years since they had last seen each other, and while Genji would like to think their correspondences had begun to repair their relationship, there were something letters just couldn’t fix.

“You’re thinking about her again,” Zenyatta mused, looking over at his pupil.

Genji groaned but kept his eyes on the road. “I really wish you were not so good at reading me, Master.”

Zenyatta chuckled. “It’s not an ability I have any control over, especially when you are so easy to read… What troubles you, my pupil?”

Genji sighed, leaning back slightly into the driver’s seat. “Many things,” Genji confessed. “Much like Hanamura, Watchpoint holds many memories for me, both good and bad. It will not be easy to confront them.”

“Is that all?” Zenyatta asked, clearly aware that Genji had failed to disclose all of the details.

“And I am nervous to meet Angela once more,” Genji begrudgingly admitted.

Zenyatta hummed, satisfied with Genji’s answer. “Why are you nervous?”

“I did many things to Angela that I regret. I had hoped to make up for the pain I caused her through my letters, but I am not sure they will be enough.” Genji’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “What if she resents me?”

“Genji, have you ever know Angela to be unreasonable?” Zenyatta asked, his hands folded in his lap.

“Stubborn and unbelievably self-sacrificing, yes... but unreasonable, no.”

“From what you have told me about Angela, I know her to be a very kind, logical, and considerate person. I doubt she harbors any ill will towards you. I am sure though that if there was such a grievance she would be willing to have a conversation with you about it. “ Zenyatta looked to Genji. “Is my assessment of her character accurate?”

“As always,” Genji relented. While Genji’s nerves had not completely relaxed, Zenyatta’s reassurance set him slightly more at ease. They drove in silence for only a short while longer before they reached the quiet base perched on the crest of the cliff.

The years had been kinder to the base then Genji thought they would. The watchpoint seemed to be mostly intact; Winston must have taken care in maintaining it. The building, as far as Genji could tell, had hardly changed, but everything about the watchpoint felt different now. Genji wondered if it was because he was a different man now or if it was because the world was different now.

“Are you ready, Genji?” Zenyatta asked, looking towards the man in question.

“Yes,” He responded simply as he took the keys out of the ignition. His heart raced despite his even voice; however, there was no use in stalling. It was time to face his past and his future.

 

* * *

 

It was a short walk from where the pair had hidden the car to the front of the facility. Outside of the large metal doors sat Winston looking the same as he always had. “Agent Shimada, Zenyatta, welcome!”

“Is there really such need for formalities, Winston?” Genji asked, stopping in front of him.

“I suppose not. It is nice to see you again, Genji.”

“And you as well.” Genji had never minded working with Winston. He had never treated or looked at him as if were some abomination. Winston was probably the only one in the original Overwatch team who really understood what it felt to be treated less than human. “And this is my master, Zenyatta.”

“Greetings, Winston. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you for traveling all of this way,” Winston responded. “Your help is greatly appreciated.” Silence permeated the base before Winston cleared his throat. “Let me show you inside.” He turned around and approached the giant metal door. After placing his hand upon the touchpad, the door began to slowly open. Genji and Zenyatta followed Winston inside.

The Entrance Hall looked mostly the same, but it lacked the signs of heavy traffic and persistent cleanliness that had once characterized it. Before Genji had the chance to further take in the room, a high-pitched, energetic voice caught his attention. “Genji!” In an instant, the ex-pilot turned agent zipped in front of him. While it had been years since Genji has last seen her, she had not aged a day. He supposed there were some advantages to getting trapped in time.

“Tracer, still as fast as ever I see,” Genji said, smiling under his visor.

“You better believe it, luv! Think you can still keep up with me in training?” She asked with a smirk.

“I am always ready for a challenge,” Genji answered. While he had never been very close to Tracer, she was easy to talk to, seeing as she talked enough for the both of them.

“And who's this?” Tracer asked, looking to Zenyatta.

“This is my Master,” Genji explained.

“Greetings, I am Zenyatta.” The omnic looked as serene as ever, not phased by his unfamiliar surroundings.

“Are you one of the Shambali then? It’s an honor to meet you. Mondatta was an inspiration to me.” She wore a somber expression uncharacteristic of her.

“To us all. I miss him greatly.” The two continued to chatter. The ease of their conversation relieved Genji somewhat. Zenyatta, despite being an omnic, would be appreciated by at least one person on the base. He hoped the others would follow suit.

Before Genji could ponder their conversation further, he felt a huge hand slap him roughly on the back. Genji sputtered as he lurched forward from the force of the shoulder pat. The deep, bellowing laugh immediately gave away his assailant before Genji even turned around.

Reinhardt, standing tall, was wearing one of his trademark grins. “Genji! It’s good to have you with us again, my friend.”

“It’s good to be back,” Genji responded. The years had certainly been kind to Reinhardt if he was still able to pack such a punch.

“What’s all this commotion for?” A voice asked in a distinctive southern drawl. Reinhardt stepped aside, eager to meet Zenyatta, which allowed McCree to come into Genji’s view. He was still wearing that ridiculous cowboy get up. Some things never changed.

“McCree,” Genji said simply. McCree’s and Genji’s relationship had always been a competitive one. In his early days, McCree had constantly challenged Genji to childish bets to “test his ability”. While Genji had first thought the gunslinger annoying, McCree’s persistence and carefree nature had brought back a little of the competitive streak Genji was known for in his youth. Losing his company was one of the hardest parts of transferring from Blackwatch to Overwatch all of those years ago.

“Long time no see, partner.” McCree tipped his hat. “Don’t you still owe me a drink?”

“I don’t think stepping on my foot while we arm wrestle is considered legal. Doesn’t cheating void the bet?”

McCree shrugged. “S’Far as I can recall, you never said I couldn’t.”

“Touché,” Genji responded. “But we are not going to that tacky Western bar in town.”

McCree sighed, overdramatically. “Fine. So long as it’s not sake, I’ll settle. I need somethin’ with a bite to properly celebrate my overwhelmin’ victory.”

“Do not push it.” While Genji was happy to see McCree, there was someone else he was more anxious to meet. “Is Angel-- I mean Dr. Ziegler here?”

“She got in pretty late last night, and she’s been settin’ up ever since. I reckon she wouldn’t mind a visit though…” McCree's eyes drifted to the left, away from Genji. “Speak of the devil.”

Genji followed McCree’s gaze, turning to the side to get a better look. In the doorway stood Angela as radiant as the first time Genji had looked upon her. Her pale skin was kissed by wrinkles that spoke to both the joys and hardships of her life. Her white blonde hair, which was frazzled from a clear lack of brushing, still adorned her head like a crown, and her crystal blue eyes, framed by laugh lines, held warmth despite their icy appearance. While Angela had changed since the first time Genji had laid eyes upon her, she was no less beautiful.

“Genji,” Angela spoke in her usual soft voice. “You seem well.” Even though her words were considerate, Genji immediately sensed reservation coming from Angela. The careful smile she wore failed to light up her eyes the way Genji remembered. Something was wrong.

“I am a different man now,” Genji responded. “I am whole.”

“Have you experienced any problems as of late?”

Genji’s brow furrowed. “No. I am fine.”

“I am glad to hear that.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I would still like to do a check-up before your first mission… Now if you will excuse me, I have a lot of work that needs my attention. Make sure to let Athena know when you will be dropping by.” Without waiting for his reply, Angela spun on her heel and made her way back towards the medical wing.

Genji was taken aback. He had expected reservations or perhaps scrutiny, but Genji had not anticipated be spoken to like he was a patient. It was as if their relationship had regressed ten years. Though that was not quite right. Even in the beginning, Angela was still genuinely concerned for him. The kindness she had just shown seemed careful and practiced. Her whole demeanor felt fake, as if she were hiding her true feelings from him.

“You ok there partner?” McCree asked, pulling Genji from his thoughts.

“No,” Genji answered honestly. “But I will be.” He felt unsure of where he stood with Angela after their confrontation. This was not the Angela he had exchanged letters with. This was not the Angela he had gotten to know all of those years ago, and this certainly was not the Angela had had expected. In another life, Genji would have bottled up his emotions and ran from the problem, but now he knew that trying to ignore the problem would only serve to eat him up inside. There was only one solution to destroy the growing dread in his stomach that clawed through him like a monster. He would have to confront Angela.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY FINALLY MET HOLY HECK IM HYPE  
> Things are gonna pick up I swear. Also I had to watch Dragons waaaaaaaaaaay too many times to write this chapter. @.@ I don't want to see that short again for awhile >.>

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I am seeking to improve so suggestions are greatly appreciated. Feel free to comment because I love to chat <3 Thanks again to my lovely editor CutieCiderPie. He's awesome and he has some OW stuff you should check out.


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